Forest Nymph
by dolphintale204
Summary: He saw her first on a dark night. There must have been darkness in him. A shadowy mass of darkness. It must have drew him to the forest. And it must have allowed him to meet her - his star, his forest nymph. With her, he realized that the darkness was actually light. AU.


**Forest Nymph**

 _ **Summary:**_ _He saw her first on a dark night. There must have been darkness in him. A shadowy mass of darkness. It must have drew him to the forest. And it must have allowed him to meet her - his star, his forest nymph. With her, he realized that the darkness was actually light. AU._

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Disclaimer: I don't own Fairy Tail.

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He saw her first on a dark night. He hadn't done his chores properly so he was beaten, proclaimed a useless thing, and thrown out in the night without dinner. He was going to starve at this rate; his last meal being a watery soup the night before.

Was there something wrong with him?

What made them throw him out this way, a ten year old to be beaten so every inch of skin was blossoming in purple and blue shadows?

He was told the story. He had shown up on their doorstep ten years ago, an abandoned child. _'You're lucky to be alive,'_ They told him, _'A useless thing like you should be forever indebted to us.'_

It must have been because there was a darkness in him. A writhing and twisting shadowy mass of darkness.

That darkness must have been the one that drew him towards the forest.

Dark and gloomy. Shadows cast by the unknown. Creatures lurking in the dark.

Yet he went.

His eyes easily adjusted to the dark haze. No moonlight penetrated the dense treetops, and he had never been in the forest before, but his feet were somehow carrying him forwards.

It seemed as if there were something at the end of his goal, urging him on.

His walk turned into a jog.

Into a run.

Into a full out sprint.

It was close, he could feel it.

He just… couldn't figure out what _it_ was.

He only knew he had to get there.

Branches scratched at his skin, leaving shallow cuts on top of the bruises. Though they stung, they didn't faze him.

Sting would keep on running.

If only for _it._

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 _It_ seemed to be so close.

And then _it_ was right there.

 _It_ had appeared so suddenly that Sting nearly ran into her. _Her,_ not it.

She was crying, sobbing, head in her arms as she sat under a large tree.

Through the darkness of the forest, her hair seemed to glow. It was a beautiful, bright golden color, the color of the sun - or the color of soft yellow stars. He studied the rest of her body, his eyes opening wide in shock. This girl with the beautiful golden hair had skin that must have been a healthy honey glow. It would have been that color, if it were not for the prominent cuts and bruises.

She seemed to have gone through something like him.

And she seemed to be younger than him.

Red, purple, blue, green, yellow. Nearly all colors of the rainbow painted her skin.

Although it sounded pretty, it wasn't.

Sting realized with a start that she must have gone through something _worse_.

And even though it seemed like the darkness that must be within him protested, he stepped forwards.

He approached her.

"Miss?"

She looked up.

He noticed her eyes filled with tears, and rimmed with red.

How long had she been here?

Why had her eyes a dull, murky brown?

"Are you here to take me back?"

Her voice cracked as she spoke.

Sting recognized that kind of sound.

He sometimes would sound like that, if he had been yelling or screaming or crying for a while.

Or, if he had no hope left.

Then he studied her more, his sharp gaze catching sight of a dress. It was ripped and tattered, but he could tell it used to be covered in frills and bows. She must be a noble.

Nobles lived lives of luxury. They had servants at their beck and call.

They wouldn't have been beaten like this.

They wouldn't have been beaten to look like him.

Like him, a dark and abandoned child.

"No."

Sting knew he wouldn't take her back. If she were here, she would have left for a reason.

But, he also knew he had no reason to stay. If he did, and she were found, the other nobles looking for her would punish him for not turning her in.

He swiveled on one foot.

With his back to her, he walked away.

His darkness inside of him moved out of anguish - the darkness didn't want to leave _her._

Sting thought the darkness moved because it didn't want to be with her. He thought the darkness was right.

Nothing good would come from helping her.

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Her tears subsided when that boy came.

She knew his pain.

She thought that he would stay, that maybe he'd want to be with her.

To keep each other company.

But then, he turned away.

As he started leaving, to her, it seemed like the darkness was pressing in on her. It was looming, close behind.

And once the boy left, it would pounce.

He was like a light, he scattered the darkness, and if he left…

She didn't want him to leave.

So she pushed herself onto her feet. The feet that had carried her a mile away from the castle, a mile away from her father. They wobbled, still tired from the long run, but she forced herself to chase him.

Stumbling, she ran after him.

Almost like a moth drawn to the light.

Knowing her feet were about to give out, she lunged.

Tackling him, they rolled a few times before coming to a stop.

Looking at him, with those large eyes full of sadness, Lucy spoke in a quiet and sorrowful voice.

"Will you please stay with me?"

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That voice shook him.

It was a voice of not a ten year old, not anyone older than that, but one of an eight year old.

 _She had gone through all this at the age of eight._

Sting knew that if he had been beaten like she had at eight, he would not have been able to run away like she had.

And so, the overwhelming urge to protect her overwhelmed him.

"Let's run away together."

The darkness rejoiced at that.

In that moment, he felt that it was not darkness within him.

No, it was a light hidden behind the curtains, and the curtains had now been drawn open.

It had been light that brought him to her.

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Sting was thirteen, Lucy was eleven.

They had been on the run for three years.

Moving from place to place, acting as orphans or homeless children. It wasn't a lie, really. He _was_ an orphan, and both were homeless.

From that day in the forest, the two had built a trust upon each other. This trust was so strong, the bonds so tightly knotted, that nothing could break it.

In the first year - when he was still ten and she still eight - the news of the missing young noble was shocking to all. The scraps of her dress found in the forest only fabricated a story that could erase the memory of her existence forever.

The young Lucy Heartfilia who had been tragically killed by a wild beast.

When the girl had heard the story, she waited until the two of them were alone before she started laughing.

It was the first time he heard her laugh, and he was entranced by it.

And it was there - in their little alley that the runaways made a promise to each other.

"Together, forever."

"Until the end."

A solemn and grave promise to make, for two children their age, but they made it.

And they vowed to keep it.

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She was thirteen, he was fifteen.

On the run for five years.

They had found a safe place to stay, working for an old fisherman and his wife, who treated them as their son and daughter.

It was now a peaceful and happy life.

The two of them had fallen into the routine of comfort and happiness.

They let their guards down.

They should have known that peace and happiness don't always last long in this harsh, cruel world.

They shouldn't have let their guards down.

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News of the two blonde children that entered the fisherman and fisherwoman's house spread to a certain noble's ears.

This noble didn't care about the male blonde, but was very interested in the female blonde.

This noble was Jude Heartfilia.

And he was ready to take his daughter back - to see her once more before he breathed his last.

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News of the two blonde children reached another noble's ears.

This noble was sure that the male blonde was his nephew, the one everyone thought was dead, the heir to the noble's property.

This noble was Weisslogia Eucliffe.

He was ready to take his nephew back into the life of nobility.

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"No! Let go of me! Stinnggg!"

Crying and thrashing in the guards' arms, Lucy tried to reach for Sting, who also was being pulled away.

"Lucyy!"

Sobbing, she watched as he was taken away, locked into an elegant coach.

The coach drove away, and sixteen year old Lucy fell to her knees, crying as the boy - now an eighteen year old mature enough to be a man - she had fallen in love with was taken away from her.

As she was forced into a carriage sent by her father, she whispered sorrowfully to herself, remembering the promise they made when they first ran away.

"I suppose we won't be able to stay together forever until the end, Sting."

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Sting, in his coach, grasped his shirt right above his heart. He was crying, because he was sure they would never see each other again.

"Farwell, Lucy."

The curtains closed over the light within him.

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 _Knock. Knock._

"Father?"

The seventeen year old Lucy, clothed in a dress not unlike the first one she wore when she ran away, knocked on her father's door.

She had heard of his condition, of how he was not going to live long.

That might have been why he was so desperate to get her back.

But he didn't have to have Sting sent away too.

"Enter."

Even before she opened the door, just by voice alone, Lucy knew that her father was unwell. He had grown worse over the past year she spent in the castle.

Looking at him made Lucy almost turn and leave.

Her father was pale and thin, cheekbones and collarbones showing. Eyes dark and sunken in; he was like a living corpse.

"You know that I will not be living long. And as the only child, you will be the heir to all that I own."

"Yes, Father."

"I also have arranged a marriage for-"

"NO!"

She would not marry someone else.

"This man is not much older than you."

Lucy snorted.

'Not much older' could mean fourty years older than her, maybe even more.

"You WILL marry him. He is the nephew of one of my acquaintances."

Nephew?

That might be okay… if it were not for the fact that she was already in love.

It was not like she would see him again, but maybe if she married this nephew, she would be able to see more of the world, and might be able to find him one day.

When that day came, when she finds him, she'll run away with him again.

"Okay… father."

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"Sting. I know that this is very sudden for you, but you are a noble, born of noble birth."

"I figured _that_ out when a bunch of guards took me away."

Weisslogia could only smile at his nephew's manner of speech.

The years away from any nobility must have been terrible on Sting.

Not that Sting would be able to remember being in this place though, Sting was separated from birth.

"And as my only heir to my property, I have arranged a marriage between you and a young lady, the daughter of one of my acquaintances."

"I WILL NOT MARRY _ANYONE!_ "

No, not when he loved someone else.

"You will marry her."

It seemed that no matter how much he yelled, it was futile. In the past year since he arrived here, all the lessons were probably for this.

He was to marry _it._

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"Miss Lucy, you look perfect!"

A maid clasped her hands together, as she and the seamstress completed arranging Lucy's wedding outfit.

In a long white and gold wedding gown, with a thin veil to cover her face, Lucy looked beautiful.

But it was all she could do to stop herself from ripping off her veil and running away.

She had to do it, though.

Now that her father had passed away, everything was hers.

If she didn't get married now, other suitors would fight each other for her hand.

She preferred an arranged marriage to something like that.

And so, taking a deep breath, she waited for the doors to open and the wedding ceremony to begin.

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The doors opened.

Lucy stepped forwards.

Serenely, beautifully, yet alone.

She had not father to walk her down the aisle, nor did she have anyone else close enough to do so.

So she walked down the aisle - which seemed excruciatingly long - to the front of the cathedral.

She kept her eyes on the floor, not wanting to see what kind of old, or hideous, or snotty noble she was destined to marry.

As she stood in front of the person, still looking at the floor, she heard a gasp from him.

"Lu-cy?"

The voice seemed disbelieving, unsure, yet hopeful.

That voice would be one she could recognize anywhere.

"Sting?"

She slowly raised her head, and her brown eyes grew wide with wonder.

A beautiful smile spread across her face.

Lucy would have lunged at him, if not for the priest who wanted to preform the wedding ceremony.

She tuned out the priest as she studied him, and he studied her.

She couldn't wait to talk to him.

And if only the boring monotone priest would stop talking…

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And now, the exchanging of vows.

He took in a deep breath, calming down his racing heartbeat that had started pounding once he saw who exactly it was underneath the veil.

"I, Sting Eucliffe, take Lucy Hearfilia to be my wife, the one who rescued me from my darkness."

From then on, he didn't even try reciting the vows he had memorized. He could come up with plenty on his own, if he was going to marry Lucy.

"I promise to be there when you need me, to be that person you can lean on. I promise to love you to the ends of the earth, and to accept you just as you are, for you are perfect in my eyes."

He could see that she was crying.

Smiling gently at her, he continued.

"I promise to be with you forever, until the very end."

It was her turn now.

She didn't hesitate, because she knew exactly what she wanted to say to him.

"I, Lucy Hearfilia, take Sting Eucliffe to be my husband, the one who is always by my side. I promise to never leave you, to be the shoulder you can cry on. I want you to know that you can always trust me, and I will always trust you. I promise to keep you in my heart forever, until the very end."

She smiled at him, all her love for him in her eyes.

The priest started speaking again, but the two ignored him until the exchange of rings, the 'I Do's, and when the priest said…

"You may kiss the bride."

There was no hesitation.

His lips met hers.

Together at last.

Forever.

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 _R.I.P._

 _Here lies Lucy Eucliffe._

 _A loving wife, a mother, a star, a forest nymph._

 _Here lies Sting Eucliffe._

 _A caring husband, a father, a light in the dark._

 _Together until the end._

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 **A/N: Wow. I don't know if that's the worst one-shot I've ever written, or the best one-shot I've ever written. Maybe a bit of both. (If that's possible.)**

 **Was this one okay? I feel like some parts weren't clear… but maybe it's just me. Was this too sad? Please let me know what you think of this, as the idea came out of nowhere, and I'd like to hear your thoughts!**

 **dolphintale204**


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